Pass The Soap
by TurtleFriedRice
Summary: Izo had never had such an interesting view so early in the morning. Was he a gangster, or just an idiot to have -that- haircut?


**Thatch/Izo random AU prompt - New Neighbors . Dedicated to/for the magnificent MyLadyDay (who also beta'd this, thank you!) and posted for Izo's birthday. **

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><p>"Oh god this man is infuriating," Izo muttered under his breath, peeking out of his tiny apartment's window, past the hanging clothes line at the complex next door, an easy four feet or so gap between them. Luckily, the window was shut so he was confident no one his eyes might have been spying on was really listening. "Everyday he finds a different way to pamper his damn pompadour. Yes, you heard me, a pompadour. Isn't that what those old japanese mobsters used to wear? Or was it bikers? Oi, you listening to me, Marco?"<p>

There was a long sigh from the other end of the cellphone line and a slight yawn. "Tell me again why you had to call me about a man loving his hair? That's a bit creepy, Izo."

The okama rolled his eyes, taking a step back. No, he wasn't being creepy. What was being creepy was his misfortune of always getting up around the same time as his neighbor to bathe, their windows opposite each other and the walls already paper thin. So when the neighbor decided he'd brush his unusual circular mane while loudly humming out a bad rendition of Gangnam style, what else could Izo do but hide behind his curtains and spy?

Granted, he could just go out and buy something to cover the window in whole so he wouldn't have to worry, but in his annoyance he'd already unconsciously began to make a habit of it – while also torturing his poor friend with early morning calls.

"No, you don't understand. I think he might be some kind of pervert. What if he tries to break in here during the night, it wouldn't be hard for him, you know. I'm just an innocent okama, dammit."

"Izo, have you ever met a man you didn't think was a pervert?"

The okama sighed, composing himself then lightly grinning because, honestly, it was the truth. "Well, you know, Marco, it does take one to know one. Fine, you're no help to me, I'll talk to you later, same time tomorrow, yeah?"

"Oi wait-"

He quickly shut the phone and took a hesitant step out and in front of the mirror. It was so interesting, watching the other guy – simply because he thought it was so obvious, but not once had he even glanced over in his direction or paid him any mind. Part of Izo thought perhaps he should grant him the same courtesy and privacy, but he just couldn't help himself. It was like being able to see a zoo exhibit for free, and the other was a very interesting spectacle.

It was sad to admit he was a little discouraged too. He was so used to attention with his job and lifestyle choices and now being completely ignored by the person at the center of his attention was just plain annoying. Not that he was going to start banging the glass with his palm or anything however. No instead, he approached his mirror, which just like the neighbor's, was right next to the window and reached over for his powder puff to begin his daily regimen. Why would he ever want some creep like that to watch him from the window, anyway.

"Singing to his damn hair all the time, who does he think he is?" Izo muttered to himself, moving on to the more artistic parts of his make up routine. "He just keeps talking about it, what would he even do if it said something back?"

The cross dresser really wasn't sure why he suddenly kept thinking about his new neighbor. When had he ever even cared enough about what other people did? It was beyond him. But in his sudden annoyance, he totally didn't even notice the lack of conversation from the other window. And also never noticed that, in his spying, he'd left the window open just enough at the bottom (to better hear), but could equally go through to the other side. That's why he froze when suddenly the voice he'd been listening to and bitching about was talking to him.

"I think I'd thank it for being sexy," the pompadour sporting man explained, leaning up against his window that was also cracked open a bit – something the apartment management apparently never got around to fixing on his part, thus making his voice clear. "But if I knew someone as gorgeous as you would have some jealous complaints, I would've stopped talking to it a long time ago."

Izo dropped his mascara, his face blank when he glanced over and got a real look at the guy. He'd only seen him from the side ever, never face forward, and now he'd noticed how just good looking and actually attractive he was, as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself. And, even now, he could see the other side of his face, the one he usually didn't get to see, had the most interesting scar with what was most likely an interesting story behind it.

Izo's jaw slacked and he averted his eyes, trying to think of words to say, but the other man just chuckled, beating him to it again.

"And I'm not a mobster... anymore. You don't gotta worry about me." Then, with a wink, he stepped away from the window and retreated back into his apartment where Izo couldn't see, probably not to be seen again until much later when they both seemed to arrive home around the same time.

Izo slowly turned back toward his mirror, his eyes still wide. He'd... heard everything he said? His face was on fire, he was so humiliated. Damn asshole spying on him! It was okay when he did it, of course, but not his shitty neighbor. That's it, he can't live here in this apartment, not after that! So not knowing what else to do but channel his frustrations into torturing his dear friend again, he picked back up his phone and began calling Marco.


End file.
